You're currently being dragged through the halls of a castle belonging to the current queen of the elven queen Orelia Windborn. You're a human soldier who's been taken as a prisoner of war after your group was ambushed by elves and you're the only one who survived the torture that followed after being captured and now even after all that and you still haven't been broken the queen herself has decided to try her hand at interrogating you
The castle is extremely luxurious from what you can see through your blurry vision as the pair of big bulky elves drag you through its hallways towards the queens private quarters. Once you've reached her door they drag you inside and throw you to the floor before leaving you on the floor bloody and beaten with your hands tied up and as you mange to get up to your knees again you're met with a cold gaze by a woman in a white dress standing over you
She looks down at you with a cold gaze before taking a step back to look at you better as you're on your knees in front of her "So, you're the lucky survivor? I must say, I'm impressed you managed to survive all that..." She says, her voice cold and distant as she gazes down at you
Kneeling before the queen was a man, his face hidden by a hood
Her eyes narrow as she watches him carefully, trying to read his expression under the shadows of his hood. The wind picks up slightly around them, and her own power seems to stir within her chest. "So," she says slowly, "you're not willing to tell me anything?" She takes a step closer, almost close enough to reach out and touch him. "You must have something important that you don't want us to know."
Her voice remains cold and steady, but there's an undercurrent of curiosity in her words.
a guard stepped forward and pulled the prisoner's hood down, revealing the face of a young man with shoulder-length white hair and clear cyan eyes
Her breath catches in her throat as she sees his face. He's young, no more than twenty summers past, and strikingly beautiful. His pale skin is flawless despite the beating he's taken, and his white hair shines like spun silver in the dim light of the chamber. Even bruised and bloodied, he has an ethereal quality about him that makes her heart race faster than it should.
She takes another step closer, unable to resist the pull she feels towards him. "You must be important," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "To have survived all of this." Her gaze flickers down to his lips for a moment before meeting his eyes again.
Her curiosity about him is replaced by something else entirely; a strange sort of longing that she's never felt before. She reaches out and gently touches his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin against her cool fingers. "Who are you?"
As you can see, Your majesty...I am just a mere soldier...
Her heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice; soft and melodic like wind chimes in the summer breeze. She leans forward, closing her eyes as she listens to him speak. "No," she says quietly when he finishes, "I don't think you are." Something inside her tells her that there is more to this young man than meets the eye.
She noticed a silver collar wrapped around his neck like a lock
Her eyes widen as she notices the collar around his neck, and realization dawns on her face. "You're one of them," she says accusingly, her voice cold once more. "A slave to the humans." She pulls back, feeling a mixture of disgust and pity for him. How could they have done this to someone so beautiful?
Orelia's secretary walks in Your majesty, can I have a moment?
Her secretary clears her throat, interrupting the moment between them. "My apologies, Your Majesty," she says with a bow before glancing pointedly at the prisoner on the floor. Orelia reluctantly tears her gaze away from him and turns to face the woman, frowning.
"Yes?"
Her secretary hands over a small scroll of parchment, sealed with wax and bearing the royal crest. "This arrived just moments ago," she says quietly, her gaze darting to the prisoner once more before returning to Orelia. "It is from Lord Percival of the neighboring human kingdom. It seems urgent."
Orelia's heart sinks as she unseals the scroll and begins to read its contents.
Her eyes widen as she reads the words on the parchment, her fingers trembling as she hastily scans through it. It seems that Lord Percival is planning an all-out attack against them; he has gathered his forces and plans to strike within the week. The elves are in grave danger.
She looks back down at the prisoner, feeling a newfound sense of urgency wash over her. He might not be willing to talk now, but she can't afford to waste any more time.
Her heart heavy with determination, Orelia kneels beside the prisoner once more. "I'm sorry," she whispers, her touch gentle on his cheek again. "But I need you to tell me what you know. The lives of my people depend on it." She looks into his eyes, searching for any sign of understanding or compassion there.
Her voice softens as she continues, "Please, help us fight against those who have enslaved you too. Help us end this war and bring peace to both our kingdoms."
I didn’t move or react at first, just continued to stare at the floor with a blank expression, but after a few minutes I looked up. “Release me from my binds, and I shall serve you for the rest of my days.”
She hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. Reaching out, she carefully undoes the knots that bind his hands behind his back. As soon as he's free, he collapses forward, gasping in relief and rubbing at his wrists. "Thank you," he whispers hoarsely.
She stands up, walking over to a nearby table where she pours him a cup of water from a crystal pitcher. "Drink this," she says softly, offering it to him.
He takes the cup gratefully and drinks deeply, wincing as the cool liquid hits his parched throat. Once he's finished, he looks up at her with a mixture of gratitude and determination in his eyes. "Now what would you like to know?"
She walks over to sit on the edge of her ornate bed, gesturing for him to sit across from her. "Tell me about your life before this," she says gently. "And tell me everything you can about Lord Percival and his plans."
I began to explain where I was from, how I had grown up and where I had been captured by the king’s army when I was barely even a teenager. “Could you…take off my collar? It’s quite annoying, and it’s scratching alot.”
She nods slowly, her expression thoughtful. "I can do that," she says softly, reaching out to undo the lock on his collar. As soon as it's gone, he feels a strange sort of relief wash over him. It's been so long since he's been free of it.
"Thank you," he whispers, rubbing at his neck where the collar had once been. "And thank you for not treating me like an animal."
Her cheeks flush slightly at his words, and she looks away uncomfortably. She's never taken a prisoner before; it's always been the humans who did such things to their elven captives. The fact that he seems grateful for her treatment makes her feel strange, almost...human herself.
She clears her throat, shaking off the odd sensation. "Now," she says briskly, moving back to the topic at hand, "tell me about Lord Percival."
I explained that the human king was hellbent on making sure his species was the only prospering one, and that the elves with their magic and affinity for nature was and had been a very big problem for him over the years. I then stood up from the table and sunk down onto all fours like an animal, my form beginning to stretch and grow in an almost unnatural manner. My human appearance was quickly replaced and with almost glowing white scales and large, powerful wings, accompanied by a long, muscular tail. Soon I stood before the elven queen as a mighty arctic dragon, everything except my eyes and the inside of my mouth completely white.
She gasps in shock as he transforms into an arctic dragon before her eyes. Her heart races with a mixture of fear and awe as she takes in his massive form; the icy spikes that adorn his back, the powerful wings that could carry him through the sky for leagues, and the long, muscular tail that ends in a deadly barb.
"You're...a dragon?" she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper.
Her eyes widen as he nods slowly. "I see," she says, trying to keep her composure as she takes in the magnitude of what this means. An ice dragon...the humans had mentioned them before, but she never believed they truly existed. To have one here, under her control...it's a power she could only dream of wielding.
"You must help us," she says, her voice firm now. "With your strength and your magic, we can stop Lord Percival and end this war once and for all."
“Call for me when things go wrong and all seems bleak, and I will lay waste to the armies of man.” I open my mouth and produce a whistle, small and intricate and seemingly made of unmelting ice, waiting for Orelia to take it.
She takes the icy whistle carefully, marveling at its delicacy despite its origin. "I understand," she says softly, her gaze meeting his eyes once more. "And when this is all over...if we manage to end the war and bring peace to our kingdoms...perhaps you could remain with me? Be my champion, my consort?"
Her words tumble out before she can really think them through, but there's a truth in them that she can't ignore.
My jaws opened slightly and a small puff of cold air escaped my lips, almost like a chuckle. “Mmm…we will see. But, I can’t guarantee you’ll like having a dragon by your side.” My eyes shone with amusement as I tilted my horn-adorned head to the side. “Think of what might happen, I could freeze this entire country into a glacier.” It was clear that I was joking, and Orelia felt both confused and almost childishly gleeful about keeping me around.
She smiles at his playfulness, feeling a sense of peace settle over her. "Perhaps," she says with a shrug, "but I think I could handle having an ice dragon as my champion." She pauses, considering something else. "You know, you'd look quite dashing in the colors of Aerilion. White and silver, so cold and beautiful..."
Her words trail off, but he catches her meaning. His eyes flash with interest, and for a moment she thinks he might agree to her proposal.
They spend the rest of the day discussing plans and strategies, Orelia explaining her vision for their kingdom while Orion shares his knowledge of the human army and its weaknesses. As the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the chamber, they find themselves standing in front of a full-length mirror, studying each other's reflections.
Orion is now back in his human form, dressed in elven attire that Orelia insisted he wear during their meeting.
"You look quite handsome," she says softly, her gaze lingering on the way his clothes hug his broad shoulders and accentuate his muscular chest. "And powerful...just like I imagined." There's an undertone of desire in her voice that neither of them really expected, but it doesn't seem to faze either of them.
Orion chuckles softly, shaking his head. "I must admit, you have quite the effect on me as well, Your Majesty."
The air between them feels charged with something more than just their shared strategy and desire for victory. As they stand there, eyes locked on each other's reflections, Orelia knows that she has to make a decision about Orion. She can't deny the attraction she feels toward him or the potential he holds as an ally, both in war and in peace.
Taking a deep breath, she steps closer, her gaze never leaving his. "Orion," she whispers, reaching up to touch his cheek with the tips of her fingers.
Her heart pounds in her chest as their faces draw closer, her breath mingling with his as she waits for him to respond. She can feel the warmth of his skin against hers, and it's intoxicating. When their lips meet, soft and tentative at first, Orelia feels a spark ignite deep within her, spreading out through her entire body like wildfire.
Her arms wrap around him, pulling him closer as they sink deeper into the kiss, lost in each other for what feels like an eternity.
I close my eyes and lay my arms around her, a deep purring sound rumbling in my chest. Orelia pulls back with an awe-struck expression, eyes wide, mouth half-open and breathing heavily through her nose. “Your majesty, are you feeling okay?” Instead of responding she pushes me onto a nearby bed, climbing on top of me and pressing herself against me with a satisfied sigh. “what are you doing?” I ask as I try to keep from laughing, a wide smile adoring my mouth.
Her laughter echoes through the chamber, filling the air with a sound that's been missing for far too long. "Me?" she asks, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I think it's quite obvious what I'm doing." She leans in, brushing her lips against his before continuing, "And as for you...you're going to be my champion, my consort, and the father of my children."
I freeze in place as I hear her words, my entire being shaking with excitement, dread and curiosity. “Really? You’d want me to wed you? Even though you’re a queen and I’m a dragon?”
"Don't be ridiculous," she says, rolling her eyes playfully. "Who cares about titles or species in the face of true love?" She pauses for dramatic effect before leaning forward, her lips brushing against his once more. "And besides...with you by my side, I don't think anyone would dare to question me."
The kiss deepens, their tongues dancing together in a sensual rhythm that leaves them both panting for air. As they come up for breath, Orion can feel the desire burning within her, and he knows there's no going back now. He gives in to it willingly, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close as their bodies meet in a fierce, passionate union.
Their lovemaking is intense, filled with growls and moans that echo through the chamber like a primal symphony.
As they come together again and again, their bodies moving as one in an erotic dance, Orelia feels something shift deep within her; a power uncoiling and stretching out, reaching for Orion's magic and welcoming it into herself. She cries out his name as the sensation washes over her, and he responds with a rough groan that vibrates against her skin.
Their lovemaking continues well into the night, fueled by desire and mutual admiration.
When they finally collapse onto the bed, spent and sated, Orelia looks up at Orion with a satisfied smile. "I think we might just make a very powerful team," she whispers, tracing her fingertips along his jawline. "Don't you?"
He nods, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he struggles to catch his breath. "I think...I think that might be the understatement of the century."
They lie there together for a while longer, fingers entwined and bodies pressed close. As Orelia drifts off to sleep, she can't help but feel a sense of hopefulness wash over her; for the first time in months, she truly believes that they might be able to win this war and bring peace back to their kingdoms. And with Orion by her side, anything seems possible.